Be Strong
by kira66
Summary: When the shuttle carrying Benjamin Sisko and his son, Jake, crashes on the Klingon Homeworld, Jake is reported to be the only survivor. As such he is taken in by a Klingon who has no son to honor his name. But what happens when lies are revealed?
1. Chapter 1

Four year old Jake Sisko opened his eyes then squinted at the brightness of the light. He felt sick to his stomach and attempted to curl up into a ball but heavy bandages across his mid-section prevented him from doing so. "Daddy?" Turning his head from side to side, Jake searched the strange room for his father but Benjamin Sisko was nowhere to be seen.

"I see you've decided to join us, puq." A dark skinned man with ridges up his forehead said as he entered the room with a bowl in his hand. As he neared the bed, he thrust the bowl out. "Sop." He motioned towards Jake and then the bowl. "Sop."

"I..." Jake didn't understand the strange sounding word but he reached out and took the bowl, fumbling with it slightly. "Who are you?" He questioned as he looked down into the bowl and was surprised to see the contents moving. His stomach threatened to rebel and he turned his head away.

The man, a Klingon, laughed, heartily, at the boy. "Do not turn away, puq. Sop so that you will regain your strength. Racht is good for you. It will help to settle your burgh." He patted his stomach just to be sure the boy understood.

Jake swallowed hard then looked back into the bowl. "You want me to eat worms?" He made a face but picked one up, none the less. He tried not think about how slimey it was as he placed it in his mouth and swallowed it whole, not wanting to chew. And to his surprise, his stomach did start to calm and finally settle. He sent a questioning look towards the Klingon. "It worked!" He exclaimed.

"It did. Just as I said it would." The Klingon sat down in a nearby chair. "I am Aktuh son of Tumek of the House of Olahg. And who are you, puq?"

"My name is Jake Sisko and I'm four years old." Jake said proudly as he popped another Racht into his mouth and swallowed. "Do you know where my daddy is?"

Aktuhexpression didn't change. "Do you remember what brought you to this world, puq?"

Jake grew thoughtful as he tried to remember where he was and how he got there. "Me and daddy were on a ship." He paused, thinking. "Mommy was there too. Something happened and daddy said we had to go on a smaller ship. That's all I 'member."

Reaching over, Aktuh took the half empty bowl off the childs lap and set it on it on the table beside the bed. "Your shuttle crashed not far from here, puq. You are the only one that survived and even that was uncertain until now."

"No..." Jake whispered as tears began to fill his eyes. "I don't believe you." He crossed his arms over his chest.

Aktuh gave the boy a stern look. "I speak the truth, puq. Now you must be strong so one day you may honor the name of your father."

Jake clenched his jaw then nodded. Raising a hand, he wiped the unspilled tears from his eyes. "Is my mommy coming to get me?" He finally calmed himself down enough to ask.

"No, puq." Aktuh shook his head, his wild hair flaring about his head. "Under our customs and laws, I have claimed you as my puqloD. You would do well to forget your life before now, puq." He stood. "Now leS, your QID has yet to heal." He motioned towards the boys wrapped stomach. He then turned and left the boy alone.

Once the Klingon was gone, Jake turned his head to face the wall. He wanted to cry but Aktuh told him to be strong. The news of his fathers death was a lot for the little boy to take in and soon he slipped into a restless slumber. His dreams were filled with smoke and flames and he awoke more than once, screaming.


	2. Chapter 2

Thirteen year old Toran son of Aktuh of the House of Olahg stood before the lit Kor'tova candle. Today he completed his first Rite of Ascension and he was waiting for his father to acknowledge the honor that he brought to his House by becoming a warrior.

"You have brought batlh to your." Aktuh told the boy as he entered the room and stood behind him. "Kahless has smiled upon you, puq."

"I am no longer a child, father. I am a warrior, now." Toran said, proudly, still staring at the candle.

Aktuh placed a hand on his sons shoulder. "Yes, you are a vaj." He acknowledged. "And as such you have been given a great honor by the Council on this day."

Toran turned to look at his father. He stood straight and proud, as a Klingon who just completed their first Rite of Ascension should stand. "Is there a great battle to be fought?" He asked, eagerly, ready to prove himself a capable and honorable warrior on the battlefield.

"No blood will be spilt on this day, Toran." Aktuh moved over to his computer console and called up the right documents for the boy to see. "The Federation wishes to...talk." He sneered. "And the Council thinks it would be wise to have you there."

"Dor-sho-gha!" Toran cursed and crossed his arms over his armor clad chest. "I am not a babysitter! Let someone else deal with the humans!"

Aktuh spun to face his insolent offspring. "You will do as you are told! You may be a warrior now but you still have to follow orders!" He pointed to the console.

Toran, grumbling under his breath, sat down in front of the computer console and began to read the information displayed to him. Pausing halfway through the list of names in attendance, he, sharply, looked at his father. "You told me he was dead." Was his calm statement.

"I was told that he was." Aktuh answered, honestly. "When I inquired about the other human I was told that he perished in the crash and that you were now my responsibility. I did not question the Council further."

Sitting back in the chair, Toran narrowed his eyes. "He will recognize me." He looked at his reflection in the screen. No matter how hard he tried to act Klingon, he'd never look like one. At thirteen, he was tall for his age and sleeker than his peers. His small build gave him an advantage over his friends because they always seemed to underestimate his strength and stamina. He could hold his own against them and most of his instructors at school. No one ever questioned his heritage because he proved himself Klingon time and time again. His hair was just passed his shoulders and held back by a leather cord. And always attached to his side was his Daqtagh, which his father had given him on his tenth birthday. He may have had a Klingon heart but that didn't matter to offworlders. They took one look at his smooth forehead, devoid of ridges, and wondered what he was doing there. An unconscious growl escaped from his throat at the memory. "This is a test, is it not? The Council wants to know what I will do once I am amongst my own kind again." He sneered.

Aktuh knew Toran was angry and he unconsciously encouraged the anger. "Perhaps he will recognize you and perhaps the Council is testing you. What will you do about it, vaj?"

Toran finished reading the text and stood. "I will prove myself Klingon." With that said he turned and left. He needed release the anger that was making his blood boil so headed off in search of his friends.


	3. Chapter 3

Toran shifted with impatience once again. The Federation delegates were late. "You'd think they'd be on time for their own funerals." The young warrior grumbled and crossed his arms over his uniform clad chest. Patience was one virtue that he did _not _have.

"Calm yourself, young Toran." Toq of the house Restagh warned the son of his closest friend, Aktuh. "Impatience is a sign of weakness that should not be shown to your enemies." He was sent by the High Council to observe the boy.

Before Toran could answer the room was filled with a hum followed by the appearance of seven men and one woman, all wearing varied colored Starfleet uniforms. Uncrossing his arms, he brought himself up to his full height. "nuqneH!" He opened his arms wife in a sign of welcome. "I am Toran, son of Aktuh, and I bid you welcome." He easily switched from Klingon to Standard.

"Captain Benjamin Sisko." Benjamin was surprised to see a boy waiting to greet his delegation. But what surprised him more was the lack of bone ridges on the boys forehead. "This is my first officer, Commander Ulath. And Ambassadors Jenkins, Renaldo, T'Ay, Hoss, Dunne, and Ambassador T'Ay's assistant, Soke."

Toran nodded his head to each of the delegates then motioned towards a table and eight chairs sitting off their right. "Your seats." He grunted out and waited for them to be seated before continuing. "I am your..._liaison_." The word tasted bad in his mouth. "I am at your..._disposal_."

"You seen awfully young to be an liaison." Benjamin stated from his seat closest to the boy.

Toq knew that the human Captain had just unknowingly insulted Toran so he stepped in to defuse the situation. "Captain Sisko, I'm glad to see that you have not fallen in battle." He knew the Captain from when he, himself, sat on a similar delegation.

Benjamin turned his attention away from Toran and onto Toq. "Toq, I see they still let targs run lose within the Council walls."

Laughing, Toq slapped Benjamin on the back. "Do not let Toran's age fool you, Captain. He is a skilled warrior and equally skilled diplomat." He boasted. "The Council was wise in choosing him to be their liaison." This time he slapped Toran on the back and motioned for the security detail to leave so that the talks could get underway. "Think of him as Council spokesman if that makes you feel more at ease." With that said he turned and left. He'd check on the boy later.

"Talk!" Toran stood in front of the table and waited for the delegates to gather themselves. "I do not have all day...starfleet." He sneered. After a moment the talks began and lasted well into the wee hours of the morning. While he wasn't tired, he could see that the others were. "We will break until midday." With that said he left the council chamber and leaned against the wall outside the room. It was taxing, listening to them grip and complain. He was not used to such...dealings. Klingons were not shy about anything but it seemed that the humans and even the two Vulcans were holding back. Growling, he slammed his fist into the wall and as he heard, and felt, several bones crack, started to feel a little better. It surprised him to find out that he wasn't alone in the corridor. Captain Sisko was standing, silently, nearby, watching him. "What?" He growled.

"How old are you?" Benjamin inquired after finishing his observation.

Toran flexed his broken hand taking comfort in the pain. "What does it matter? I was chosen, personally, by the High Council, to handle these talks. You may request another but know that you will not get one."

Benjamin frowned. He hadn't met any Klingon youths in his days but he was sure they looked like the adults just a little smaller. But here this boy was, clearly a Klingon boy, but without forehead ridges. He had a bad feeling about this and was determined to get to the bottom of things. There was a time when Klingons had smooth foreheads but he did not wish to dwell on the implications. "You've hurt yourself, you should seek out a Doctor."

"Have you any kids, Captain?" Toran asked out of the blue as he took a step back from the Captain.

"No." Benjamin didn't even hesitate when answering. "I don't."

Toran nodded and disappeared down the corridor, leaving a very confused Captain in his wake.


End file.
